


fine and cool and chill

by commandercosmo



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Reader is a University Student
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 13:40:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12389211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commandercosmo/pseuds/commandercosmo
Summary: During class, you become wildly over-stimulated for no particular reason. Your SQUIP takes it upon itself to help you.





	fine and cool and chill

**Author's Note:**

> WOAH HEY I hadn't listened to Be More Chill in like, over a month, and suddenly I remembered how much I loved the Squip. Anyway, here's this. Let me know if you have any requests!!

You’re sitting in a lesson when it starts.

 

Your professor was speaking about one thing or another, and all of your classmates are either listening intently and taking notes or in a world of their own. You know, logically, that no one is paying any particular attention to you. You know this, and yet you somehow feel every pair of eyes in the room on you, bearing down on your every movement.

 

Your breath begins to come in sporadic bursts, your leg bouncing under the table as you try to focus on your notebook in front of you. Your vision becomes blurry as tears try to drop from your eyes, but you force yourself to remain calm and not panic. 

 

You’re lucky that this particular professor doesn’t force you to answer questions unless you offer. You’re usually quite on top of things, your hand raising whenever you know how to respond to a question, but today you can’t even look up at anyone directly. 

 

**_Go home._ **

 

You jump in your seat, gaining a brief glance from your neighboring students. They don’t dwell on it, though, and go back to their work. You try in vain to calm your heart.

 

_ Of all times, you decide to scare me  _ **_now?_ **

 

Your SQUIP obviously knows when you’re feeling particularly anxious. Therefore, it should know when to absolutely not startle you under any circumstances. If you weren’t so jumpy and nervous already, you would have half a mind to be pissed.

 

**_Don’t be like that. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you._ **

 

Your SQUIP didn’t often apologize. You realized, also, that it was using a much calmer tone of voice than usual; most of the time, it was almost demanding, telling you what to do when you needed guidance. Now, though, it’s gentle, as though it’s trying to soothe you. 

 

It doesn’t work. You’re still on the verge of panicking, only now you have to worry about not speaking aloud to a supercomputer that’s inside your brain. Fantastic.

 

You curl your sleeves over your hands, your knee still bouncing furiously under the table. You don’t listen to your SQUIP’s initial instruction to leave, so you sit tense, expecting a shock at any moment.

 

**_You don’t have to worry. I’m not going to shock you._ **

 

There’s the soothing voice again. You almost bark out a laugh this time, because you could be told a thousand times not to worry, but your brain would  _ absolutely continue to worry.  _

 

You’re sure you look a little bit out of sorts, now. You’ve abandoned your pencil on your notebook, having instead shoved your sweater-covered hands between your knees to stop yourself from fidgeting. You glance at the clock. How has it only been five minutes since the last time you checked it? It seems like the end of class is years away, even though you only have under an hour left. Each sound seems to be too much for you, from the sound of your professor’s voice to the scratching of your classmates’ pencils on their papers. 

 

Your SQUIP sighs audibly. You’re grateful that it hasn’t manifested in its physical form, because you found it hard to not speak aloud to it, and that really was not something you wanted to deal  with in this state.

 

**_If you’re not going to take my advice and go home, then please at least go to the bathroom and calm down. No one will think twice about it. Go to the bathroom._ **

 

You can’t really find any fault in this suggestion, so you look up. Your professor is discussing something you’ve already read about, and you’re not too worried about missing a minute or two of the lecture. You place all of your things quietly onto the table in front of you so that you can get up without causing any disturbance.

 

Mechanically, you stand up from your seat, and get to the door without incident. You take great care in ensuring that you make as little noise as possible opening and closing the door, and make your way to the bathroom.

 

You silently thank whatever architect designed your school for making some individual bathrooms rather than exclusively having several stalls in each one. You shut and lock the door and turn to the sink, immediately washing your hands out of habit.

 

Once you’ve dried your hands, you finally look into the mirror. Your hair is a little messy, and your eyes definitely look red. To be quite honest, you look pitiful. Your lip quivers as you look more closely at your reflection.

 

Without warning, your SQUIP materializes next to you. You can’t see it in the mirror, but you can feel it behind you. You turn, and without a moment’s hesitation, you begin to cry, your panic and anxiety pouring out all at once.

 

“Let it out, it’s okay,” your SQUIP says. You grab some paper towel from the dispenser to wipe away some of the tears, probably too aggressively. The panic is still prevalent in your system, and you can feel your heart beating in your ears. You feel your SQUIP’s hand on yours, bringing your hand down from your face. 

 

“You don’t have to hide the tears,” your SQUIP tells you softly, and you’re taken aback by how gentle it’s being with you. “Let them flow. I will assure that you do not spend too long in the bathroom, as I know you would rather not cause any possible reason for questioning.” 

For some reason, this makes you cry harder. The support that you’re receiving from your SQUIP is appreciated, and you can tell that it means what it’s saying to you. You wipe at some of your tears with the sleeve of your sweater, dampening the material. Your shoulders shake as you attempt to keep from making sound. 

 

“I’m s-sorry,” you mumble, tears still pouring from your eyes. You know you haven’t technically done anything, but you feel like you’re making the SQUIP do extra work for no reason. No reason except your stupid brain.

 

“You have no reason to apologize,” your SQUIP tells you. It puts its hand on your back, and the simulated pressure is reassuring. You hiccup, your tears slowing now. “It is my primary duty to ensure that you are functioning within normal parameters. Today, you are not. Under the established circumstances, the best course of action to make you feel better is this.” 

 

Your SQUIP pulls you into a hug. It’s warm, and it’s firm, and you feel a few final tears fall from your eyes while you lean into its embrace. Your SQUIP’s words were mechanical in nature, but were spoken with such softness that you felt an immense amount of comfort wash over you upon hearing them. 

 

You weren’t at one hundred percent, but you certainly felt better after releasing so much tension. You pull back from it, your eyes still watery. 

 

“Thank you,” you say quietly, looking up at your SQUIP. 

 

Is it… blushing?

 

Your SQUIP coughs, rubbing the back of its head as though it were embarrassed. “Of course. There’s, uh, no need to thank me. I was just... following protocol.” 

 

If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume that your SQUIP was malfunctioning. It seems flustered, not quite looking directly at you. 

 

Once again, it clears its throat. “Well! You’d better get back to class. It has been approximately six minutes and forty-eight seconds since you left. If you miss any more, your anxiety will ultimately worsen.”

 

Without the opportunity to mention that the SQUIP is a supercomputer and could, in fact, research anything you missed, it dematerializes. You’re left splash cold water on your face and return to class, much less anxious than before. It seems, however, that your SQUIP wasn’t quite finished giving you advice.

**_You should go home once this class is over. Your learning experience is vastly less important than your well-being._ **

 

It seemed less flustered than it had just a few moments ago. You smile down at your notebook as you settle back into your seat.

 

_ I will. Thank you, again.  _

 

**_...Of course._ **


End file.
